Thymamai
by Ariadnerue
Summary: Percy/Annabeth, oneshot. And all she could do was hope he didn't forget.


Disclaimer: Percy Jackson & The Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan

This is kind of a follow-up to Oblivisci, a story I posted a while ago about Percy with his memory loss. This is Annabeth's side of the story.

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><p>Annabeth liked Piper McLean. She was a nice girl. She was clever and tough, most unlike the rest of the Aphrodite cabin. She had been through a pretty rough time recently, and she certainly deserved some happiness.<p>

But every time Annabeth saw Piper and Jason together, it made her feel sick.

She didn't feel a just a bit upset, or a little sad, or anything else so mundane. When the two of them were together, talking, laughing, smiling, Annabeth felt physically, awfully sick. Like there was something rotten in her stomach. A couple people had even commented on it. She saw Jason and Piper holding hands once, just for a few moments, and Butch asked her if she needed to sit down, as all the color had drained from her face.

She would never say it out loud, but when it came right down to it, Piper and Jason's relationship was just a fabrication of the Mist. They had never been together. And it didn't matter how real it may have seemed, because Jason probably had a girlfriend in San Francisco.

And there it was. It was nothing to do with Piper and Jason personally. But when she saw them together, it made her mad. Because Percy was out there somewhere with no memories, and… and…

What if Percy had a Piper?

She ground her teeth at the thought. Some girl with her filthy hands on him. Some girl walking around calling him a son of Neptune, spouting plagiarized Roman nonsense like the Greeks hadn't done it all first. It just made her so mad she could… she could…

"Whoa, Annabeth! Calm down!"

Annabeth blinked, confused. She was on the training field at Camp, her knife and shield were lying discarded at her feet, and a training dummy was pulverized to the ground in front of her. She blinked again.

"Oh Gods, is that training dummy bleeding?" she asked, alarmed.

"No, your hands are bleeding!"

Annabeth looked down at her hands. Sure enough, she had apparently gotten angry enough to do away with her weapons and set upon the armored dummy with her bare hands. Obviously not the best idea, considering the blood dripping from her knuckles and spattering all over the dummy's remains.

"Oh," she said in a rather disconnected way. She glanced around to see who had been talking to her, and she winced. Jason Grace was standing behind her, and he looked thoroughly alarmed. "Oh," she repeated, dropping her hands to her sides. "Eh… hi, Jason."

She stooped down and picked up her knife, wiping the dirt from it carefully before tucking it back into its sheath at her belt. She succeeded in dripping blood all down her leg and smearing it on her shirt. She cursed loudly.

"Annabeth," Jason began tentatively, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched and batted his hand away on instinct. He looked about as surprised as he ought to. She let out a frustrated breath.

"Sorry," she blurted. "Still in fighting mode." And she turned to stalk away.

"Hey, wait a sec," he caught up to her, whipping off his sweatshirt in the process. "Here, let me help." He ripped a sleeve off the shirt and stepped in front of her. She grudgingly stopped in place and allowed him to wrap the sleeve around one of her bleeding hands. He wordlessly did the same with the other sleeve for her other hand while she stood there feeling ashamed of herself.

"Come on," he said at length. "Let's go to the Big House."

"Thanks," Annabeth said abruptly. "But I can get there myself."

He gave her a hard look. She gave it right back. He sighed and shook his head. "Well I'm coming with you anyway."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't stop him from following her. Her cheeks were turning red with embarrassment, so she carefully kept a few steps ahead of him. She couldn't afford to just lose control of herself like that. She had too much to do. Hell, she was just too smart for this crap. After her third or fourth frustrated sigh, Jason cleared his throat.

"Look… I think I know what's bothering you," he said in a low voice.

"Is that so," she replied stiffly, and she started walking faster.

Much to her chagrin, he easily kept stride.

"There's a girl," he blurted. She stopped in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder at him. He had his hands deep in his pockets as he stared at the ground. "Her name is Reyna. That's all I know about her. But…" He let out a frustrated sigh of his own. "I think there is something between me and her. Or was. I don't know."

Annabeth ground her teeth, but she didn't say anything, so he continued.

"I didn't remember anything about her at all until a couple weeks ago," he said flatly. "And it's tough, because I really like Piper."

"Why are you telling me this?" Annabeth cut in angrily. "Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

Jason looked panicked for a moment. "No, that's not it, I just-"

"Shut up," she blurted. A few people nearby turned and stared. Jason took an involuntary step back. "Just shut up. I don't want to hear your voice, I don't want to see your face, I don't want anything to do with you!" she shouted. The sweatshirt cloth fell from her hands and they resumed bleeding. She didn't notice. "Because as long as you're here, he's somewhere else! That's all that matters to me. He… he is all that matters to me."

The whole area had gone completely silent. Annabeth realized she was crying, and when she tried to wipe her eyes, she only succeeded in smearing blood on her face. She met Jason's eyes briefly. He looked shaken, completely unsure of what to do. She just shook her head and walked away. Jason only noticed later that she didn't go to the Big House. She went the opposite direction, and as soon as she was out of sight, she started running. Her feet carried her to the lake, which she promptly plunged into. She washed all the blood from her arms, legs, and face, but her hands still bled for a short while as she floated on her back in the water.

She floated there until her fingers pruned, and even then she just kept floating. She didn't want to go back and face everyone. She didn't want to hear Chiron clopping down to the water's edge to check on her. She didn't want another million people asking her if she was okay. Of course she wasn't okay. She was in a lake. Percy was on the other side of the country.

And all she could do was hope he didn't forget.


End file.
